


Ugly Sweaters and Mistletoe

by mikkimouse



Series: Tumblr Fics [23]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Party, M/M, Ugly Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5556053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse/pseuds/mikkimouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt from <a href="http://mad-madam-m.tumblr.com/post/104884835296/captainasexual-fun-holiday-aus-for-you-to">this list</a>: "we both wore ugly sweaters to this christmas party because the invitation didn’t say it’s formal au"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ugly Sweaters and Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stilesinwonderland (itsabravenewworld)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsabravenewworld/gifts).



> Written for the 2015 [Sterek Secret Santa](http://stereksecretsanta.tumblr.com/) for the lovely [stilesinwonderland](http://stilesinwonderland.tumblr.com/). Love ya hon!
> 
> Originally posted to Tumblr [here](http://stereksecretsanta.tumblr.com/post/135918821967/merry-christmas-stilesinwonderland).

Stiles knew something was wrong the moment he walked through the door to the party and saw Scott wearing a blazer and a tie, _not_ an ugly holiday sweater.

"Where's your sweater?" he asked, shrugging out of his coat. 

Scott's eyes bugged out. "Where's your _suit?_ "

"It's an ugly sweater party!" Stiles hissed, glancing quickly around the room. Everyone else was wearing suits and cocktail dresses. _Shit_. "That's what you told me!" 

Scott grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away from the door. "That's Isaac's party, and it's next week! This is the holiday fundraiser for the wolf sanctuary!" 

"I _know_ that." Stiles tugged self-consciously at his bright red holiday sweater with a stitching of three wolves howling at the moon. "But you didn't tell me it was _formal!_ "

Scott dragged his hand over his face. "Oh my God, dude, I told you to make sure your suit was clean!" 

Stiles flailed. "I thought that was for your engagement dinner with Allison!"

Scott groaned and buried his face in his hands. "Yes, but it was for this, too! Do you even listen to anything I say?"

Stiles bristled at the accusation. "I've been stuck in finals hell all week. You're lucky I remembered what _day_ it was." 

Scott sighed. "Okay, okay. It'll be fine. Just go get a drink and mingle and—" He cut himself off and stared at something over Stiles's shoulder, his eyes going wide. "Oh shit. Mr. Argent just found Ms. Hale. Um. Go grab a drink and I'm going to make sure they don't try to kill each other." 

Scott ran off, muttering "shit shit shit" under his breath.

"Good luck!" Stiles called after him with a jaunty wave, quietly thankful Scott had been distracted.

He headed to the drink table, trying to look like he didn't have a care in the world. More than a few people side-eyed him, but Stiles held his head high. His sweater was _perfect_ for a wolf sanctuary, thank you very much. It was just...slightly less fancy than it was supposed to be. That was fine. He was fine. 

He ordered an _extremely_ alcoholic drink and grabbed a cupcake, shoving half the chocolatey goodness into his mouth. Sugar and booze, that was exactly what he needed to deal with tonight. After another cupcake and another drink, he wouldn't even care that he was severely underdressed for a swanky holiday fundraiser. 

Stiles caught a flash of garishly bright colors out of the corner of his eye, and whirled in that direction. _Holy shit_. There was another guy across the room, standing near a Christmas tree and scowling so hard it was a miracle he hadn't set anything on fire with the sheer force of his glare. His face looked like it had been sculpted by angels and his beard was so perfectly manicured he probably had tiny woodland creatures shape it every morning. 

But that wasn't the most important part, oh no. 

The most important part was that he was _also_ wearing an ugly holiday sweater. 

Stiles fist-pumped with his cupcake. He was not alone!

He made a beeline for the scowling dude. Yes, the scowl was probably supposed to keep people _away_ , but Stiles had never been put off by intimidatingly hot people. It was why he and Lydia got along so well. 

And intimidatingly hot _definitely_ described this guy, holy crap. The closer Stiles got, the more he could see that this dude was so far out of his league it wasn't even funny. But that was okay! They were both wearing ugly sweaters. He had an opening. They could bond. Or at least commiserate over their mutual bad luck until Stiles blurted out something awkward and the guy fled back to the drinks table and more socially acceptable companions. 

He sidled up to Intimidatingly Hot Scowling Guy and raised his drink in solidarity. "Did you miss the memo, too?" 

If possible, the guy's glare got even _more_ intense. "No," he growled. 

Stiles hadn't even known it was _possible_ to growl words. "So why are you wearing the sweater?"

"I lost a bet." The guy finally flicked his gaze to Stiles. "To my sister." 

Wow, this guy's eyes should be _illegal_. Stiles wasn't sure what color they were other than "pale" and "beautiful," because he could see yellow and green and brown and...blue? Were his eyes actually blue as well? Holy shit.

And he'd almost lost the thread of the conversation. "Your sister?" Stiles repeated, quickly taking another drink. "What bet did you lose to her?" 

The guy's eyebrows bent so close together Stiles was sure that they'd merge. "You're going to laugh." 

Stiles gestured up and down his own sweater with his glass. "I don't even have a bet as an excuse. I didn't realize this was formal. Come on, I won't laugh. Or, well, I probably will, but you can laugh at me, too." 

The guy sighed and raised his eyes to the heavens, as if praying for intervention or for God to strike him down on the spot. Stiles recognized that look. His dad did it a lot. So did Scott and Melissa, come to think of it. 

"Project Runway," the guy finally said. 

Stiles blinked. "Wait, what?" 

The guy narrowed his eyes at Stiles, as if daring him to laugh. "My sister and I make bets on Project Runway. We pick who'll win each challenge. Person who loses has to wear an ugly sweater to the fundraiser dinner." He sipped whatever was in his mug and muttered, "Laura's won the last three years in a row." 

Stiles bit his lips to keep from _cooing_. He wanted to laugh, but at the same time, the guy had an ongoing bet with his sister over a reality show! How cute was that? 

It was then he registered the name the guy had said. "Laura? Wait, as in Laura Hale?" 

The guy nodded. "My older sister." 

The pieces clicked into place, and Stiles would have facepalmed if he wasn't still holding the remains of a cupcake. As it was, his face just burned with the fire of a thousand suns. "You're Derek." 

Another nod.

Oh God. Oh _God_. Derek, who literally _ran with wolves_. Stiles had seen him maybe twice when he'd come out to the sanctuary to visit Scott, both times from far away, always in a grubby tank top and shredded jeans and playing with _fucking wolves_ as though they were puppies. It was both badass and terrifying.

And now Stiles was a foot away from the guy and he was wearing sinfully tight jeans and a garishly green holiday sweater that rivaled Stiles's for ugliness, and his hair looked soft and curled around his ears and that beard was _amazing_ and oh shit, Stiles had a crush now. 

He shoved the rest of his cupcake in his mouth to keep from saying anything stupid and immediately choked on it. 

Derek set down his drink on a nearby table and patted Stiles's back, his glare morphing into something closer to concern. "Are you okay? Can you breathe?" 

Stiles nodded, still hacking up bits of chocolate cupcake—wow, way to make a _great_ first impression—and Derek frowned. "Come on, let's get you some water." 

He took Stiles by the elbow back over to the drinks table and handed him a napkin and a glass of water. Stiles accepted both gratefully, wiping awake the cupcake with the napkin and chugging the entire glass of water until he could breathe freely again. 

He'd been wrong before. _Now_ his face burned with the fire of a thousand suns. He wanted to melt into the floor. "Thank you," he said weakly. 

"No problem." Derek rubbed a hand up and down Stiles's back, like he was still trying to help. "Do you need another glass of water?" 

"No, no, I think I need something a lot stronger." 

Derek smirked. It was the closest Stiles had seen him come to a smile so far. "Jack and Coke?" 

"Please." 

Derek delivered the order to the bartender and returned a moment later with two drinks. He handed one to Stiles. "You're Scott's friend, aren't you?" 

Stiles drank half of his in one go. There. Liquid courage. Much better. "Yeah. Stiles Stilinski." 

Derek raised his glass. "And you...did not lose a bet," he said, looking at Stiles's sweater. 

Stiles shook his head. "Nope. Got this event confused with an ugly sweater party Scott and I are going to next week at our friend Isaac's."

Derek's lips twitched. "Gotcha. So is that Three Wolf Moon in Christmas sweater form?"

"Maybe. I thought it was appropriate." Stiles fought the urge to cross his arms over his chest. "I see you have eight little wolves pulling Santa's sleigh." 

Derek pressed his lips together, like he was fighting a smile. "Well, they ate the reindeer." 

Stiles barked out a laugh, and Derek's face broke into an actual smile. Holy shit. It was like staring into the sun. Stiles was going to have a fucking _heart attack_ because Derek Hale was _gorgeous_.

"Can I make a confession?" Derek asked, his multicolored eyes still twinkling. 

Stiles nodded. "Confess away." 

Derek leaned close enough that Stiles could smell his cologne. "I'm kind of glad I lost. I hate wearing suits." 

Heart palpitations. Stiles was having _heart palpitations._ He tapped his glass against Derek's in solidarity. "Right there with you, man." 

"Derek!" 

Stiles looked over to see a dark-haired woman in a slinky red dress slide toward them. She positively _glowed_ with barely restrained glee. "Who's your friend?" 

The scowl on Derek's face was back. "Laura, Stiles. Stiles, my sister, Laura." 

"Stiles!" Laura said brightly, holding out her hand. "So wonderful to officially meet you. I've seen you around the sanctuary a few times, right?" 

"Uh, yeah." Stiles shook her hand. "I've come by to pick up Scott sometimes." 

"Well, you should really come by more often," Laura said. "Have you ever seen Derek with the wolves? If not, you need to. He's absolutely fantastic with them." 

Derek groaned. "Laura." 

"What? It's true." 

"I'm just doing my job," Derek said, his face turning adorably pink. 

Laura smiled and patted his arm. "And you do it very well. Now be quiet and let me brag on you." 

Derek was still trying to glare at her, but the effect was ruined by the mixture of exasperation and fondness on his face. 

Laura pointed excitedly over their heads. "Oh, look!" 

Stiles did, and saw he and Derek were standing under a piece of mistletoe dangling from the ceiling. _Oh shit_.

Laura's smile stretched into a full-blown grin. "How lovely. You two shouldn't skimp on tradition." 

Derek looked like he wanted to set her on fire where she stood. " _Laura_." 

"Oh, there's Mom!" Laura waved at them both. "I'll catch you two later!" 

Stiles's stomach swooped. Okay, mistletoe wasn't _ideal_ , but they'd kind of been flirting, right? He took another drink and summoned his courage. "So, about that mistletoe—"

Derek was still glaring off in Laura's direction. "That's okay. We don't have to. She's just being Laura." 

"Oh." The hope he'd had plummeted. Of course Derek wouldn't want to kiss him. He'd just watched Stiles nearly kill himself on a chocolate cupcake. _Nobody_ would want to kiss him after that. "Yeah, okay. Gotcha. Well, I'm gonna go...do something. I'll see you around, Derek." 

Stiles fled before he could hear Derek's reply. 

***

Stiles hid in one of the unlocked offices, sitting on the desk and nursing the last bit of his drink. He'd have to go back out soon, if only to get a refill and reassure Scott he hadn't disappeared, but he didn't have to just yet. 

Ugh, it was stupid to be feeling so maudlin; he'd only been talking to Derek for maybe ten minutes. He'd be fine tomorrow. 

Or he'd mope and pine for another three years. Really, it was a toss-up at this point. 

The door to the office swung open. Stiles opened his mouth to come up with some reason why he was hiding in here, but any attempt at bullshit died on his tongue when he saw it was Derek walking in. 

He finished his drink and hopped off the desk. "Sorry. I, uh, I know I'm not supposed to be in here, but I got lost on the way to the bathroom and—" 

"And just decided to stay in the office?" Derek said, skepticism heavy in his voice. 

Stiles really hadn't thought that excuse all the way through. "Yes." 

Derek ducked his head, but not before Stiles caught the edge of his smile. "Did you really want to kiss me?" he asked shyly. 

Stiles boggled that Derek could be even remotely shy. "Did I really...have you _seen_ you? Spoken with you for more than five minutes? Of course I did!"

Derek raised his head then, eyes wide and full of hope. "Oh. Um... I'd like that too." 

The last part was so quick, so quiet, Stiles was pretty sure it was a whiskey-induced hallucination. His mouth dropped open. "Really? With _me_? Seriously? Even after the cupcake?" 

He facepalmed at the words coming out of his mouth. He really was his own worst enemy.

Derek lowered his gaze again, small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah. Even after the cupcake." 

Stiles stayed where he was, his mouth hanging open and unable to process the _yes_. Derek closed the distance between them, coming close enough to run his hands over Stiles's arms. 

Stiles shivered at the touch and found himself swaying into Derek's warmth. He couldn't even blame the whiskey; his heart was pounding so hard he was dizzy with it. "I, uh..." 

"Yeah?" Derek whispered, his mouth just inches from Stiles's. 

The soft word scattered all of Stiles's thoughts. "I forgot." 

Derek smiled, and then leaned forward and kissed him. 

His lips were impossibly, surprisingly soft, like velvet against the roughness of his beard. The contrast in texture drove Stiles crazy, made him want to drag his face all over Derek's to feel it. But at the same time, he didn't want to move at all, just wanted to stay right here with Derek's lips against his. 

Tentatively, he brought his hand up to trail it through Derek's hair, moaned a little at how silky it was. Derek dropped a hand to the small of his back, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, and Stiles stopped thinking entirely. The only thing that mattered was the feel of Derek's tongue in his mouth, the taste of whiskey and Coke and chocolate, the sharp, spicy scent of cologne, and the soft noises Derek made as they kissed. 

It felt like both an eternity and only a few short seconds before they broke apart to breathe. Stiles rested their foreheads together, not really wanting to move away from where he was pressed up close to Derek's body. "That was awesome." 

Derek laughed quietly, a little breathlessly. "Yeah. Definitely awesome." 

"We should maybe do it again," Stiles said, tangling his fingers in Derek's hair. "See if we can live up to the first time." 

"Maybe a few more times," Derek suggested. "And maybe one of those times can be after I take you to dinner?" 

Stiles grinned. "Yeah, that could be arranged." He plucked at Derek's ugly holiday sweater. "Will you wear this delightfully sexy sweater?" 

Derek chuckled. "I think that could be arranged. Will you wear yours?" 

Stiles waggled his eyebrows. "I'll wear whatever you want me to, big boy." 

He silenced Derek's laugh with another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](http://mad-madam-m.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/mad_madam_m)!


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